


The Thrill of it All

by blushymysterio



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon, Beck is an asshole, Consensual Underage Sex, FFH freeform, Glasses kink, M/M, Online Dating, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter is a hormonal teenager, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushymysterio/pseuds/blushymysterio
Summary: Caught up in between dealing with consequences of the blip, his regular Spiderman duties, and grieving over Tony, Peter felt awfully tired.He wanted to be a normal teenager again."Try this dating app," MJ said. "It'll be fun," she said.A story of that one time when Peter met Quentin Beck on Tinder.
Relationships: Quentin Beck & Peter Parker, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 94





	The Thrill of it All

"You’re kidding me, right?"

MJ stopped drawing in her notebook and looked at Peter in amusement.

"I mean...yeah? I've never heard about it. I blipped, remember? Still trying to catch up with everything that happened during the last 5 years."

Peter nervously rocked in his chair.

They were in the detention room again—both not really sure how this happened. It started with Flash calling Peter names and MJ trying to protect her best friend's dignity, but quickly escalated into a fist fight that ended with Flash being knocked unconscious, and left Peter with a bleeding lip—it swelled and still hurt when he touched it. Mr. Harrington didn't want to listen to any of them: after he had taken Flash to the nurse's office, he gave both MJ and Peter after-school detention until the end of the month.

So here they were, listening to Captain America speaking about the importance of school rules for the millionth time. The teacher who was supposed to monitor them over was snoring peacefully at his desk. 

"Oh, the blip, right. I forgot." MJ returned to drawing the sketch of the detention monitor. "So this app, it's called Tinder. You get yourself a profile, upload a few photos, and you're good to go. Swipe right if you like the person, swipe left if you don't. You can text them if you match. Easy-peasy."

"Sounds like a really easy tool for hook-ups, huh?" Peter aimlessly flipped through pages of his textbook.

"And you can look for both girls _and_ boys." There was something conspiratorial in MJ's voice, like she knew all of Peter's darkest secrets. "Maybe this is exactly what you need, Peter. You've been so tense lately."

Peter looked at her in horror, feeling his cheeks burning. "Um? I don't? I mean, I'm not into—? What?" 

"Come on, it's fine. I'm not judging—I’ve had a few dates with girls, too. It's fun." She brushed him away like it wasn't a big deal.

"I'm **_not_** —" Peter tried again.

"There's no point in lying to me, Peter. Do you remember that one time, before the blip, when Avengers came to our school to talk about global security? Your eyes were glued to Thor's butt. I know because I watched you." She smirked.

Peter looked away, feeling extremely embarrassed. "I mean, doesn't he have a very nice body? Everyone in the class was swooning over him—even Mr. Harrington constantly forgot what he wanted to say when Thor was standing next to him."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." MJ was obviously tired of hearing his excuses. She grabbed Peter's phone from where it was lying on his desk and typed something. After a few seconds she handed the phone back to him. "Ta-da! Now you have Tinder installed. Go on, have fun."

Peter wanted to tell her how ridiculous it was and that her assumptions about him were utterly wrong, but then they were interrupted by the detention monitor who suddenly woke up.

"Are you guys still here? It's fine to go home now. I'll be waiting for you tomorrow at the same time." He yawned widely and scratched his fat belly.

"Can't wait to hear the stories about your dates." MJ winked at Peter before disappearing through the door.

***

Maybe MJ was right after all. He had been very tense lately. Caught up in between dealing with consequences of the blip, his regular Spiderman duties, and grieving over Tony, Peter felt awfully tired. He wanted to be a normal teenager again. One who fell in love, met his friends, went on dates, and didn't need to think about saving the world for at least one goddamn minute.

That day, another Elemental attack had happened. The big creature surrounded in glowing flames showed up out of nowhere and tried to ruin half of Brooklyn, throwing fire balls everywhere. Peter might not have been able to stop it if the mysterious man wearing a green costume with red cape and funny fishbowl on his head hadn't turned up. Together, they were able to defeat the monster and save hundreds of innocent lives. The man didn't introduce himself, but Peter learned from the news that locals were calling him "Mysterio."

Peter swung back home, took a quick shower and crawled into bed, feeling totally wrecked. His gaze lingered on the glasses case that was placed on the top of the nightstand. 

_"For the next Tony Stark. I trust you."_

_Mr. Stark was wrong,_ Peter thought numbly. If anyone could replace Iron Man, it wouldn't be Peter. He was just a sixteen years old kid from Queens—he didn't want any of this. Peter sighed heavily and changed his position, turning his face to the wall. 

He was already half asleep when he remembered that he hadn't put the alarm clock on. Saving the world or not, he still had to go to school the next day—he reached to grab the phone. 

Once the screen was unlocked, Peter's attention was drawn to a new pink icon that had "Tinder" on it. _Ah_ , that cursed dating app—he completely forgot about it. He turned the alarm clock on and was ready to get back to sleep, but then curiosity got the best of him. 

_It won't hurt to take just a little peek_ , Peter decided as he opened the app. 

It prompted him to type his name, age, gender, summary of profile and upload the photo to complete registration.

 _Ugh,_ Peter thought. _A photo_.

He wasn't big on taking photos let alone taking selfies—he scrolled through his camera roll until he finally decided on one he took with Ned's dog, Tess. Probably nobody would believe that he was as old as his profile claimed, but he didn't have anything else to offer anyway, so he clicked the "upload" button.

Next, the app asked him to choose the gender of his potential partner.

He liked the girls, he really did—there was even a time when he thought that he was in love with MJ. But then Tony invited him to watch Thor fight Hulk at training grounds in New Avengers Facility and—well, he had never been the same ever since. 

That day, Thor had summoned thunderstorms and his half-naked body glowed with lighting—the image was so powerful and the resulting erection so painful that Peter had to excuse himself to the restroom as quickly as he could. 

He longed to feel strong muscular arms around his body, but his actual experience was almost non-existent—unless you counted that party at Ned's when they drank too much wine and he was forced to kiss Flash as a joke. Peter had to admit that Flash wasn't a bad kisser, but it didn't improve the relationship between them in the slightest.

The idea of meeting someone on a dating app seemed ridiculous and pathetic. He wasn't _actually_ hoping to find someone, was he? He would just have a look and then delete it. Yep, that was the plan.

As soon as registration was completed, Tinder started bombarding him with photos of men in different sizes and forms, the majority of whom were looking for quick hook ups and that promised Peter "a night he would never forget". 

He swiped left most of the time and was about to give up when he saw a photo of a man that made him forget how to breathe. 

The man—tall, bearded man—was at the beach, walking out of the sea, probably after having a good swim. His ripped body gleamed and firm muscles glistened with water droplets that reflected the sunlight. The water combed his dark longish hair back and wet swimming trunks clinged to his thick thighs highlighting his crotch in all the right places. Peter felt his mouth watering.

 _Quentin, 38,_ was written under the photo. _Swipe right to have some fun ;)_ \- this one wasn’t big on writing long introductions, apparently

Peter took a moment to study the photo closely. The guy looked like he appeared straight out of Peter's wet dreams and his cock twitched with excitement as his eyes followed each curve of Quentin’s body. Before Peter could stop himself, his finger slid right and the message "it's a match!" popped on the screen.

Not really knowing any better, he typed " _Hey_ '' and hit the "send" button.

"Hey," The reply came back almost immediately. "I love your curls. Is that a perm?"

Peter felt blood rushing to his cheeks. 

"Thanks? No, it's natural." He typed. "I try to style it with a hair gel sometimes, but it doesn't really help".

"I love the way it is, you're very cute." So this Quentin guy was flirting with him from the very beginning, huh. Peter couldn't help but grin. 

"Is this something that you say to everyone?" He typed suspiciously.

"I haven't seen anyone as cute as you. Not on this app, anyway." The message was followed by a couple of hearts and winking emojis.

 _Right_... The guy was probably bullshitting him, but it felt nice to think that he liked Peter.

"Well, you don't look too bad yourself either." After a small inner debate, Peter decided to send a winking emoji too.

They started talking about everything and nothing at the same time. It turned out Quentin was a technical engineer who liked jogging early mornings, prefered his coffee black, and hated his boss who didn't take Quentin seriously despite his very hard work. 

It was so easy to talk to him—it felt like they had known each other a long time. To match his profile, Peter had to lie about being a college student with an internship in a well-known tech company, but eventually he ended up talking about things he had never shared with anyone, not even his aunt. 

Talking about losing Tony was hard, but talking about not being able to live up to Tony's legacy was even harder. Peter made it sound like his dead mentor's last wish was for Peter to take the lead role on this project that would eventually have changed the whole course of the company—no way he could tell some random guy on the dating app that he was doing superhero stuff as his side job and that Tony Stark wanted him to be the next Iron Man.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have unloaded on you like that." Peter apologized, feeling embarrassed for sharing too much. "I'm not usually so weepy."

"It's fine," The next message from Quentin said. "It seems like you've been through a lot. Also being offered a lead role on the project of such big scale while you're still an intern? Wow, you must be very smart, Peter, I'm impressed."

It made Peter smile. 

"Thanks. I just don't feel like I'm ready for that responsibility, not just yet."

"This boss of yours, he kinda reminds me of mine," Quentin continued. "Are you sure we aren't talking about the same guy?" 

"It's unlikely as mine is dead." Peter replied dryly.

"I'm sorry, kid, this must be very tough. But it seems to me that he was a bit of a manipulative asshole, who had never asked you what you wanted to do.”

The silence between them stretched and Peter thought that he had driven Quentin away until another message popped up. 

“What do you want, Peter?" 

"What do you mean?"

"What do you want? You, Peter, what do _you_ want _right now_?" 

Peter stared at the screen, confused. Then his gaze slid to Quentin's half-naked photo and he lightly palmed his half-hard cock through his underwear.

"I want to see _you_."

" _Me_? I don't really follow what you are talking about, sweetheart." Peter was more than sure that Quentin totally understood what Peter was referring to and was playing with him.

Suddenly the room became hot and airless. 

"Can you send me a dick pic?" Peter's hands trembled as he typed.

Long minutes had passed before the screen of his phone lightened up again.

"I'd love to, but you have to earn it >;)"

And then,

"Send me yours first and I _might_ send you mine."

 _"Might"? What a teasing asshole!_ Peter hesitantly took his cock out of his underwear and gave it a few strokes. It came to its full capability almost immediately. 

"Okay, wait." 

Peter nervously ran his hand through his hair, gripping it tightly and letting it go as he exhaled loudly. He had done a lot of stupid things before, but sending nudes to a stranger on the internet was definitely a new one and it was making him extremely turned on. He stroked his cock once again and then quickly took his hand away, afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop himself.

After a series of unsuccessful attempts, he managed to get a proper photo and attached it to the conversation. 

"Oh." Showed on the screen.

"Oh? You don't have anything else to say?" Peter felt his heartbeat surge. Had Quentin not liked what he saw?

"It's perfect." Peter sighed in relief. The next chat bubble popped up. "Care to say hello from me and give it a gentle pat?"

"Hey, I didn't forget what you promised." Peter typed back, dying with anticipation. 

"Such an impatient boy, aren't you?"

In the photo that Quentin sent him, his boxers were lowered down, revealing a trace of pubic hair and just a little bit of naked skin, but he could easily make out the outline of an erection through the cloth.

"That's not fair!" Peter was nearly screaming with disappointment.

"Life isn't fair, baby." Quentin was clearly teasing him. 

When Peter didn't reply anything, the older man sent him another message.

"Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you touching yourself now?"

"...Yes." There wasn't point in lying. He was stroking himself while his eyes were glued to the photo of Quentin's bulge. The man was _huge_.

"Good. If you were sitting next to me right now, I'd stroke your whole length slowly, up and down, from the root to the tip, building the pace up."

 _Ahh_ — _!_ Peter moaned as he imagined Quentin doing the things he said.

"And then I'd stroke you harder and harder until you'd beg me for more."

Peter started pumping himself vigorously, gripping the hilt and running over the tip.

"Without stopping, I'd spread your legs apart and give a good lick to your sweet little hole." 

"And when you'd be on edge, panting for release, I'd take your cock deep inside my throat—you'd come into my mouth and I'd drink you up until the very last drop."

Peter felt his climax consuming him and he came with a shout, his body shaking.

"Attaboy" was displayed on the screen.

***

Peter finally gathered his courage up and pressed the intercom button. The door opened with a click and he deliberately stepped inside. 

This Tinder thing had been going on for two weeks now—he had been texting (or better, " _sexting_ ") this Quentin guy all the time, day and night, not being able to fully focus on anything else, raising concerned questions from both aunt May and MJ.

That day, Quentin finally asked him if he wanted to come to his place. The man boasted that he could cook the best lasagne in the world and Peter would regret having refused his invitation. 

Peter didn't want to appear too excited, but it took him less than one second to type three letters back.

 _Y e s_.

And here he was, waiting for the elevator to take him up to the top floor. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply and counted to ten to calm his heart beat down. It didn't help. Peter wasn't scared that the guy could totally be a maniac who liked to kill teenage boys in his spare time (after all, Peter was Spiderman and had seen much worse), but the idea of finally losing his virginity made his insides tremble. 

As soon as he got out of the elevator, he saw Quentin standing at the end of the hallway, waving at him.

"Hey! Peter! I thought you got lost."

Tinder photos didn't do Quentin justice—the man looked absolutely stunning in real life. He wore black sweatpants paired with a plain white t-shirt that emphasized his broad chest and muscular arms. His beautiful big blue eyes were staring right at Peter, studying him thoroughly. 

"H-hey..." Peter suddenly realized that he hadn't said anything yet.

"Don't be shy, come inside." Quentin led him inside the apartment and closed the door behind. He gently ran his hand through Peter's unruly curls. "I don't know how it's possible, but you look even cuter in real life."

They were standing close enough to each other that Peter could easily stand on his toes and place a kiss on Quentin's lips. "You don't look too bad yourself either." He gave Quentin a shy smile. 

The man smelled so nice too—was that cologne? Peter felt his head spinning.

"Well, I have dinner ready, just take off your shoes and come to the living ro—" Before Peter realized what he was doing, he cut Quentin off by grabbing the collar of his t-shirt and tugging it to bring him closer. He didn't know what possessed him to do so—all he knew was that he wanted the man and he wanted him immediately. 

Surprised, the older man bent down and Peter planted his mouth on him. Quentin hesitated for a moment, but then gave in—the kiss grew deeper, wetter, leaving them both out of breath. Peter felt big hands cupping his ass, pulling his body against him.

"I see someone is already very hungry," Quentin smirked. He rocked their erections together, making a soft moan escape from Peter's lips.

"I'm s-sorry..." Peter felt a hot flush spread over his face. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, I've just—Can you...Can I kiss you again?"

The kid looked so innocent, yet so determined. Peter felt the desire radiating from the older man and the next moment they were kissing again, harder this time. They didn't stop kissing the entire way to Quentin's bedroom until Peter felt his legs hit the bed. 

He felt Quentin's fingers on his belt, unbuttoning his jeans and then pulling them along with his underwear.

"Roll onto your stomach," Quentin ordered as he threw Peter down.

Peter obeyed and did as he was told to, presenting his fabulous ass to the older man. 

"I’ve never done this before—" Peter confessed as Quentin grabbed him by his hips and pulled up onto his hands and knees.

"Shh, baby, relax," Quentin whispered as he placed kisses along the back of Peter's neck. "I’ll make you feel good."

Peter felt extremely exposed with his ass naked and cock bobbing, leaking precum onto the sheets. He wished he could see the other man's face, but Quentin placed a hand on his back making him unable to roll over. There was a sound of drawer opening and closing and then something warm and slick was generously applied to the crease of his ass.

"Ahh!" Peter gasped as one of Quentin's fingers entered him without any warning. It was an odd uncomfortable sensation that bordered on pain, but with each thrust it got better and better until he was pushing back eagerly, asking for more.

"You're doing great, baby, keep going," Quentin encouraged him, increasing the number of fingers and pushing them faster inside of Peter. When he felt Quentin’s fingers finally hit his prostate, Peter moaned loudly at the spark of pleasure that lit him up. It felt _so good_ , he never wanted it to end. Unable to bear it any longer, Peter stretched his hand to touch his painfully hard cock, but then Quentin stopped abruptly and pulled the fingers out.

"Please—" Saddened by sudden loss, Peter pushed himself back towards Quentin. " _I_ _need you_." He sounded desperate. " _Quentin_ —"

Quentin took a moment to appreciate the view in front of him. It was perfect: Peter was standing on all fours with his milk-white ass lifted high up in the air, begging for Quentin to take him. He still had his t-shirt and socks on because they didn't bother to completely get rid of the clothes. The boy's curls became damp with sweat and he breathed heavily, eyes glittering with arousal.

" _Please_ ," He repeated.

Quentin pulled his sweatpants down and lazily stroked his already very hard cock.

"Do you want me to be your first, Peter?" He asked.

Peter hid his red face into the sheets, mumbling something inaudibly.

"I can't hear you." Quentin gave Peter's ass cheek a gentle squeeze.

"Yes." Peter cried, humping the air. "I can't take it any longer, _Quentin_ —"

The older man finally stopped teasing and got down to business. He slicked on more lube and lined his cock up against Peter's entrance, pushing forward—Peter took his whole cock as far as Quentin could shove it. The kid moaned deeply and then lay still, adjusting. 

"You're so beautiful, Peter, opening up for me like this." Quentin whispered, gently stroking Peter's back. "I’ll fuck you so good, you’ll forget your own name." 

With this he grabbed Peter's hips and started pounding his ass, slowly at first, but gradually increasing the tempo until he was slamming his thick cock in and out at a rapid pace.

Peter was panting beneath him. He finally managed to touch his own cock, and after giving himself only a few strokes, he was coming hard with Quentin's name on his lips. The way Peter’s tight little ass clenched around Quentin's cock pushed Quentin over the edge as well. He slammed in hard one final time, burying himself deep in Peter's ass and unloaded, filling the kid up. Exhausted, he fell forward on the top of Peter.

They laid like this for a while until Peter complained that he had hard time breathing with Quentin's weight pushing him down into the mattress. Quentin pulled his cock out and rolled on his back. Peter spooned next to him and lazily stroked Quentin's beard with the back of his hand.

"Dinner?" Quentin asked.

Peter grinned. 

"Sounds terrific."

***

The next morning Quentin was woken up by a very pleasant sensation between his legs—when he opened his eyes, he saw the head of his cock disappearing into Peter's mouth. The boy was inexperienced and sloppy, yet so determinded to make Quentin hard again that it didn't take long for the older man to pant with the desire to shove himself deep inside Peter's throat and fuck him silly.

Peter, however, had other plans. He climbed on the top of Quentin and let himself slide down onto his cock—it went in easily as he was still stretched from the previous night. As he rode him up and down he leaned over to steal the kiss and soon enough Quentin was coming hard, filling his tight little ass again.

"Good morning to you too," Quentin panted as he tried to catch his breath.

It didn't end up there—another makeout session followed shortly, and Quentin showed Peter what the word "rimming" actually meant. He wrapped his hand around Peter's cock as he licked the boy clean. Peter's moans became louder and breaths heavier and before long, hot liquid was spilling all over Quentin's palm.

At some point they managed to get into shower together, but then Peter found himself pinned against the glass door and everything started again. He didn't complain though.

By noon, both feeling completely exhausted and fucked out, they finally moved to the kitchen to have some breakfast. Quentin was making them avocado toast with eggs and bacon as Peter watched him, sitting at the counter and sipping his coffee. Peter was wearing shorts paired with one of Quentin t-shirts that was clearly too big for him and his messy hair was sticking out in every direction.

"So, what do you know about EDITH, Peter?" Quentin repeated his question again.

"EDITH?" Peter stared at him foolishly.

"I'm sorry, but judging from your talks about your mentor I figured that you must have an internship in Stark Industries." Quentin flipped bacon in the frying pan.

"Was it that obvious?" Peter felt embarrassed, remembering that he gave too much information the first time him and Quentin spoke.

"Yeah, it kinda was. Big tech company, dead mentor—I also work in the same industry as you, remember?" Quentin added eggs to the frying pan. "We all know about Tony Stark, he was a legend.”

"Yes, he was." There was a sadness in Peter's voice. "He _still_ is." 

"And EDITH—an artificial tactical intelligence system with access to global satellite network?" Quentin turned the stove off and took two plates from the kitchen cabinet. "People at my company are dying to see how it works."

"Actually, that project that Tony wanted me to take over... It was about EDITH." Peter confessed. 

"What?" Quentin looked at him, amused. "You're not only a cutie, but a real smarty pants too, huh?"

Peter felt his ears go red. "EDITH, I—I actually have it with me. Tony left it for me before he—" His voice broke and he stopped himself. "Anyway, I can show you how it works, if you want?"

"Oh." That was all Quentin managed to say.

Peter took the glasses case out of his backpack, opened it and put the glasses on. "Hey EDITH, start a brief demo of your functionality range." 

"Hello, Peter." EDITH greeted him cheerfully. "Starting a demo of features and functions". 

Peter took the glasses off and passed them to Quentin. "Here, try them on."

"Is it really fine if I do it?" Quentin hesitated for a moment.

"Come on, try them on, I insist." The boy encouraged him.

Finally Quentin put the glasses on and EDITH started explaining to him what it was capable of. Out of the corner of the eye, Quentin caught Peter looking at him intently.

"Do I look hot?" He teased.

Peter's face burned hot with embarrassment. When he didn't answer, Quentin came closer and put a hand on his cheek. "What's the matter, Peter?"

"I—It's nothing—" Feeling extremely ashamed, Peter tried to look away, but Quentin's hand forced him to meet his eyes.

"Oh, is that _so_? Are you sure that you don't want to tell me anything?" He murmured as his other hand slid lower and rested on Peter’s crotch. 

"I think you are very excited to see me wearing these, Peter." He gently stroked Peter's fully erect cock through the layers of clothes. 

" _Quentin!_ " Peter cried in surprise as strong arms lifted him up in the air and placed him on the top of the kitchen counter. Quentin pulled Peter’s shorts down, eyeing his cock hungrily.

"You are a very naughty boy, Peter." He wrapped his fingers around the base and guided Peter's cock towards his mouth.

The image of Quentin sucking him off while wearing glasses was too much for Peter to handle—he felt the pressure of release beginning to build, making his thoughts spin.

"Quentin, stop—I'm going to—I'm going to cum—" He panted heavily, digging his fingers into Quentin's scalp. 

The older man didn't think to stop though; he sucked harder, taking the whole length of Peter’s cock deeper inside his throat. Unable to hold on for any longer, Peter's hips bucked violently and he was coming into Quentin's mouth with a moan. 

Quentin swallowed every drop until Peter was completely emptied and shuddering. Then he rose to his feet and leaned forward.

Their lips met in a soft, passionate kiss and suddenly nothing—not Tony, not saving the world, not EDITH—mattered anymore. 

***

Peter hummed cheerfully as he uploaded his backpack, placing his textbooks on the desk. His ass was still sore and it was a bit painful to sit up straight, but he hadn't been in such a good mood in a while.

"Did something good happen?" MJ asked curiously.

"What? No, I'm just...The weather is so nice today, isn't it?" Peter tried to change the subject.

"Come on, I know you went on a date with that guy, what was his name? Quentin?" MJ could see him through. "The one whom you've been texting non-stop. Did you meet him during the weekend?"

"Well...yeah, I did." Peter confessed.

"Did you... did you do it?!" MJ covered her mouth with both of her hands.

"NO WAY!" She screamed when Peter nodded affirmatively.

Peter's cheeks flushed. "Shh, please don't scream!"

"Please tell me more, I want to know!" She pleaded.

"There isn't really much to tell—" Suddenly Peter froze when his hand didn't find anything in the inner pocket of his backpack where he usually hid EDITH. 

Panicking, he shook all of the contents of his backpack out onto the desk—the glasses case was nowhere to be seen. He checked his jacket, jeans, inside his desk—nothing.

"Peter?" MJ asked, confused. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, MJ, I have to go." He grabbed his things as quickly as he could.

"Peter, where are you going? We'll have a history test in less than 10 minutes!" MJ shouted after him.

"I'm really sorry, but this is really important! See you later!" He waved her goodbye as he disappeared out the door.

***

Peter returned back home as fast as he could. He turned his room upside down but couldn't find EDITH anywhere—it seems like it vanished into thin air. 

_Think, Peter, think!_ He could feel his heartbeat racing. He took a deep breath and realized with horror that the last time he took the glasses out was at Quentin's apartment.

He dialed Quentin's phone number quickly. _Please pick up, please pick up_.

 _"The number you have dialed could not be reached, so you will be redirected to a voice message center—_ "

He dialed the number once again. " _The number you have dia—_ " 

_Fuck_. Peter put his face into his hands.

When his phone started buzzing with an incoming call, he picked up without looking who the caller was. " _Quentin?_ "

"Who? No, Parker, it's Fury. We have a problem here." He heard the leader of the Avengers speaking. "My agents were able to revive a projector during the last Elemental's attack. It seems that our mysterious friend Mysterio has fabricated these monsters with the help of drones."

"What?" Peter asked, bewildered.

"It's not only that," Fury continued. "According to my sources, he’s planning an attack on New York City today with his last and most powerful illusion—an Elemental who is capable of manipulating all four primary elements. We have to stop him, Parker, and I need your help."

"I'm sorry, but I'm in the middle of something very important right now," Peter interrupted him.

"Listen to me _—_ you either drag your ass to Manhattan Bridge voluntarily right now or I will call my men to bring you there by force." Fury didn't want to hear any objections. 

"This guy, Mysterio, apparently he's a former employee at Stark Industries, and Tony managed to piss him off really badly. The illusions that he casts will screw with your head, so be extra careful, Parker. Stay in touch." The call disconnected. 

Peter quickly got into his Spiderman suit and swung outside the window towards Manhattan. As he was getting closer, he saw the sky becoming darker and darker until there was a gigantic creature, rising above the ocean. There was a panic on the bridge with screaming people getting out of their cars and running to find shelter—the Elemental was throwing lightning and summoning big waves, trying to destroy everything on its way.

 _It's just an illusion_ , Peter repeated Fury's words as he was trying to get closer to the monster. _It's not real._

Carefully avoiding the lightning, he shot a web to the arch of the bridge and jumped straight at the monster—to his surprise, he got inside of it easily and landed on one of drones that were creating the illusion. Peter swung from one drone to another, destroying all of them in the process.

When the image of the Elemental was gone, Peter saw Quentin, standing on the other side of the bridge. The man was wearing a mob cap suit with that weird fishbowl that was fully transparent now. Peter could see that he had EDITH, too.

Speechless, he landed next to him. " _Quentin_?" He asked, still unable to believe his eyes.

" _Hello_ , Peter," Quentin greeted him. "You're such a bad boy, trying to ruin my plans. Now prepare to die."

Before Peter was able to understand what was happening, he found himself in a dark tunnel, trying to dodge the bullets of an army of drones. He saw MJ being thrown down from the Chrysler Building and Tony in his Iron Man suit, crawling out of the grave and crying that Peter was the one to blame for his death. Illusions one worse than another were changing at a rapid speed, making Peter sick to his stomach.

"Stop!" He cried. 

"Oh no, Peter, darling, we haven't even started yet." Peter heard Quentin's voice. "Isn't this fun?"

Peter took a deep breath. _Calm damn_ , he thought. _He's just a human. There should be a way out._

He used his "Peter tingle" and shot a web into the darkness. It landed on the drone, taking it down. The illusion dissolved and he saw Quentin, standing right in front of him.

"It's over, Quentin, please stop this madness." Peter pleaded.

"Never," said Quentin as he ordered EDITH to make the drones open fire again.

Peter tried to get closer to him, destroying one drone after another. The stray bullet came out of nowhere, shooting Quentin straight in the abdomen. The man fell down on his back, writhing in pain.

Peter stepped forward. "Did you know... Did you know from the very beginning?"

Quentin looked at him. "Did I know that Stark gave my life’s work to some hormonal teenager? Yes, Peter, I _knew_."

"Give EDITH back to me!" Peter's voice was on the verge of breaking.

"Come and get it." Quentin stretched out his hand with the glasses.

Peter was about to walk towards him, but then he felt some movement behind him—he turned back and saw another Quentin with a gun pointed at him.

"I'm sorry, Peter, I really liked you." The man pulled the trigger.

Peter, however, was quick enough to grab Quentin's wrist and make him shoot the air. The man fell down on his knees—Peter took the glasses away from him and ordered EDITH to deactivate the drones.

Quentin was lying bleeding on the floor.

"Why?" Peter asked him with a blank expression on his face.

"Because nowadays you can be the smartest guy in the room, but nobody will listen to you unless you're flying around with a cape, or shooting lasers with your hands." Quentin breathed heavily as he watched blood pour out of the wound. 

Peter's phone started buzzing and Fury's name displayed on the screen.

"Are you not going to pick up that?" Quentin smiled bitterly. "Fury would be happy to have me. Go on, be a hero of the day."

Peter looked at his phone and then back at Quentin—the pool of blood around the injured man was getting bigger and bigger. Peter turned the phone off.

"What are you doing?" Quentin stared at him, confused.

"EDITH, turn all security cameras, GPS devices, everything—make sure that S.H.I.E.L.D can't track us down." The boy ordered before wrapping his arms around Quentin, helping him to stand on his feet.

"Hold on to me."

"Peter, whatever you're doing is a mistake." Quentin winced in pain as Peter drew his arm over his shoulder. 

"Shut up." 

Peter shot his web into the air and the next moment they were swinging across the city, leaving the bridge far behind.

***

Quentin slowly opened his eyes. He lay still, looking out into the unfamiliar room, trying to recall where it was and why he was here. The memory of what had happened on the bridge quickly came back to him—he peered down and inspected the bandage wrapped around his stomach. The wound didn't seem to be bleeding anymore.

He turned his head to see Peter curled up next to him. The boy was asleep, breathing peacefully. There was a stain of dried blood on his cheek and his beautiful curls were matted with grease. Spiderman's suit was nowhere to be seen—Peter had changed into t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked wrecked.

Quentin reached his hand and touched his hair, stroking it gently. It made Peter wake up immediately.

"Quentin...? Are you awake?" Peter's voice was horse and full of worry.

"How long was I out?" Quentin's hand continued petting Peter on the head.

"Two days." The boy replied.

"Two days." Quentin repeated, thoughtfully.

A few long minutes passed before he spoke again.

"Where is this place?"

"It's Stark Tower." Peter answered reluctantly. 

"Oh." Quentin examined his face. "Stark Tower, huh? If you want to hide something precious, put it in the most obvious place. Smart move, Peter."

"As long as I possess control of EDITH, nobody would be able to enter this building." Peter said simply.

"Why did you bring me here?" Quentin looked back at him and his hand slid down to caress Peter's cheek.

"Why do you ask if you already know the answer?" Peter's voice shook as treacherous tears started running down his face.

"You can't hide me here forever." Quentin whispered as he wiped the tears with his finger.

"I know." Peter sobbed.

"You're such a smart boy, Peter, but sometimes you're so, so stupid." He pulled the boy closer and kissed him on the forehead.

"I know—" Peter started to cry even more.

The older man shut him up by kissing him again, on the lips this time. Unable to resist, Peter found himself kissing him back eagerly and hard, like a man starved. 

After a few minutes they broke apart, gasping for air.

"We will figure something out." 

They both smiled looking at each other.

**Author's Note:**

> This started as one horny tweet and ended up with me trying to re-write the whole plot of FFH, lol. As always, big thank you to Jess for beta reading - your comments always crack me up :')))))
> 
> Feedback is very much appreciated and gets me going! Please stay safe everyone x


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